A Wise Man Once Said
by Jace22
Summary: Boone probably wouldn’t have asked Shannon for advice if he hadn’t been really desperate. Slash. JackBoone


Fandom: Lost  
Title: A Wise Man Once Said, Do the Opposite of Whatever Boone Does  
Pairing: Jack/Boone (slight Shannon/Sayid, Boone/Shannon, Sawyer/Kate...Sawyer/Boone too. Sort of)  
Rating: R  
Summary: Boone probably wouldn't have asked Shannon for advice if he hadn't been really desperate.  
Notes: I don't know if this is really AU because it takes place before any big events, but I definitely twisted time and events around for my own evil plots and I like to believe that some things will eventually turn out differently cough  
I'd like to thank the fabulous **midnightmagics** for betaing this for me. Girl, you are amazing like woah.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Lost or any of its characters. I think we all know that if I did there would be more boytouching, less Kate, more bitchy/hilarious Shannon, more Boone, and um, less insane button pushing crap WTF?

A Wise Man Once Said, Do the Opposite of Whatever Boone Does

1. Boone remembers that when Shannon was little she had an obsession with stars. She wore sparkly, star-shaped earrings that glittered when the sun hit them. She bought ones that were gold and silver, some that were even multi-colored, which she would never wear anymore since she says simple gold/silver earrings are 'a hell of a lot classier than _those_ pieces of shit'.

"Shannon, you already have ones just like these." Sabrina sighed disapprovingly, while Boone made faces behind her, not wanting to be in the girly store with his sister and mother.

"No I don't," Shannon pouted, "the one's I have are _bigger_, these are _smaller_ and will look better when I have a low pony-tail." She twirled her hair around her fingers and blinked up pathetically at Boone's mother, who had decided to play mommy today to cozy up to Shannon and make Shannon's father happy.

Boone made a face and Shannon smirked and stuck her tongue out as Sabrina paid for the earrings.

Once she snuck out late at night to try to see the stars, but there are too many lights in the city, so she only had her earrings as compensation for the lack of real stars in her life. (Although, Boone supposes she had actors and actresses around, but those are different kinds of stars entirely.) Boone saw her out there from his window. He saw her turn to go back inside, disappointed.

Boone doesn't know why he remembers this, just that his heart aches a little to watch Shannon lying on the sand, looking up at the sky like she's found something she lost. Like maybe she's meant to be here.

x

2. Boone used to think of himself as a man. Maybe not one of those macho, manly men, but he used to think he was a man, most definitely. He worked out, didn't talk like a girl or anything—in fact he liked to think he had a pretty nice, deep, manlyish voice—dated some pretty girls, did the whole lifeguard be-prepared-to-save-people's-lives-while-wearing-cool-shades thing, and usually if he slept with a guy _he_ was on top.

Then there was Shannon. He used to rescue her, like he was her White Knight; it made him feel strong. In his mind he was her hero, even if maybe she was just fucking with him. Well, not maybe, more like probably. Okay, okay, so she was definitely fucking with him most of the time, but there was some part of her that wasn't using him. She wasn't all bad, all bitch…right?

In any case, he used to feel strong and self-satisfied when he got Shannon out of a boyfriend-fix. Writing a check was always a great time to show off his arm muscles. But here on this stupid island he feels so _insignificant_, so useless. Every time he tries to help Jack he fails and makes a bigger ass out of himself then before. Every good thing he does turns bad.

"Do the opposite of whatever Boone does, eh?" Charlie joked one day and nudged Boone with his elbow. He grinned playfully at Boone, and while Boone knew he was joking, it still stung a little.

x

3. Boone decides he wants to be a man like Jack is. He wants to be someone that people come to for advice, for when they need help making decisions, but instead he's just the guy who trails after people a lot. Especially Jack.

"Who appointed you savior?" He had asked him one day, but Jack never answered, and Boone's never worked up the courage to say it again, cause seriously sometimes he wonders. It's not like Jack was the only one who stepped up. Who was the one who was trying to revive Rose again, huh? Boone, that's who.

He also had said something completely idiotic like, "I ran a business," which really had nothing to do with anything, so he tries to forget about that. He hopes that if he ever brings up _anything_ from that past conversation again, Jack won't remember the parts where he made a fool of himself (i.e most of it.)

x

4. They're doing laundry together one day when Boone turns to Jack and says, "So um, thanks for saving me from drowning. That one day. You remember?" Jack looks at him with an unreadable expression on his face, so Boone stumbles on, "You probably don't. It's okay if you don't, I mean, you were pretty sleep deprived then, and a lot happened afterwards. The lady died—I yelled at you. I never thanked you for helping me, even though I could have gotten back, really."

"No, yeah, I remember." Jack shakes his head. "You're welcome, I guess." Jack flashes him an amused smile and Boone nods and turns away, focusing his attention on the shirt he had been washing.

After a few minutes of silence, "Hey, Boone?"

"Yeah?" Boone's head jerks up, he hopes his eyes don't look to hopeful, or maybe that's just how they always look. They do always look absurdly bright. He had this one girlfriend that was always demanding he keep his eyes open during sex because they were so fucking pretty, as she had snarled down at him one night. She'd had one foot over on the side of terrifying.

"You and Locke catch any boar? Hurley's been feeling pretty pork deprived these days."

Okay, now Boone hopes he's not making those big puppy-dog eyes that he's been told he makes. "Oh, no. Sorry."

"It's fine." Jack says and they finish the laundry in silence.

x

5. Apparently the island really does work miracles, because Shannon seems to have developed the incredibly annoying power to pop up whenever Boone doesn't want her around. Also, she seems to have an uncanny ability to overhear conversations and follow people's gazes to see whatever—or more precisely _whoever_--they're looking at, longing after.

"Aw, you could be like his trophy boyfriend." Shannon quips, making the word 'perky' question its personality, from behind Boone. "Jack could be fucking the prettiest boy on the island." Shannon laughs, watching Boone for his reaction. "What, is Locke your silver medal?"

He wonders why starting a relationship with Sayid makes her think that she's so high and mighty and can throw out opinions about other people's love lives whenever she feels like it. He's totally over the whole Sayid-Shannon-flirtation. He is, really. The whole hallucination thing that Locke made happen? So worked. No more unresolved sexual tension between them. No sir. It's great because it makes having a weird, unacceptable crush on Jack feel like the best thing in the world.

He wishes he hadn't slept with her, not because she's supposed to be his sister, but because this is just another way she can feel superior to him.

Boone thinks maybe he should relay Charlie's advice to Sayid: Do the opposite of whatever Boone does, as in, don't have sex with Shannon.

x

6. Shannon is—surprise surprise—sunbathing when Boone finds her. The hardest part about finding her was figuring out which end of the beach she was on. It's not like there's tons of places to look on the beach. Not like she's in the jungle.

"Shan? Can I ask you something?" Boone asks, and he's only asking her since she'll probably _actually_ have an answer for this, and because, even though she's the person most likely to laugh hysterically at him, she's family. The kind of family you have sex with…and okay, not thinking about this anymore.

"I'd say no, but I know that won't get rid of you, so whatever, let's get this over with." She rolls over onto her back generously, so that he can see how little she cares from the expression on her face. Boone wants to tell her that the sun is probably as bored of seeing her topless as most of the guys who have gone out with her for more than two months are. She's hot, but man does the bitching and the using and the manipulating get to you after awhile. He keeps his mouth shut, though; he needs the advice.

He settles on going the route of straight-out, no beating around the bush for Boone. "Normal life dating rules don't apply here, I figure, right? Is there a specific way to go about finding out if a usually straight guy will go for a twenty-something guy who's not so hard on the eyes? And if so, is there then a way to ask said guy out in a way that is masculine and island-appropriate?" He hopes that he was discreet, but direct, in case anyone overheard. He quite liked the twenty-something trick. Specific, but not specific _enough_.

Predictably, Shannon laughs hysterically for what seems like ever, and then proceeds to give him the rundown. "Okay, wow, sorry, but not really. Thanks, Boone, what would I do without my daily Boone idiocy? You're so pathetic it's almost endearing. Almost."

"Gee, thanks, Shan. Knew I could count on you for some fucking support."

She tosses her hair back and lowers her sunglasses, giving him her best 'get over it, you bonehead' look. "Shut up and listen because I have better things to do than play _Make an Island Date_ with you."

Boone snorts, better things his ass.

"Island dating is different than real world dating because:

One: Obviously you can't, like, use your money to woo them into your bed." Boone gives Shannon some serious props on that hand gesture she did when she said the word 'woo', she almost looked excited for about a nano-second. _Yeeah._ "You can't take them out to fancy restaurants or to island getaways," She laughs at her own joke, which Boone found to be in poor taste, but that's probably just because he's sensitive.

Not that he doesn't pride himself on that. Chicks—and some guys—dig a sensitive man.

Shannon continues, "Two: You can't take them to _any_ restaurant or movie or anything because, hello, island?

Three: Alone time is hard to come by without being obvious, so, Boone, please, I'm begging you, do not try to come up with any plans. Do not try to be discreet or smooth. You will fail, and you will fail _miserably_, just go with the flow."

What you talking 'bout, Shannon? Boone is the king of subtle.

"Four: Play up your best features and maybe your most girlish ones. Jack might respond to that. Maybe."

Ew, no way is he going to try to be a girl, but other than that he thinks he gets it. "Right. I should just try to stick around him as much as possible. Maybe try to do some extra chores with him. Okay, I think I get it. Thanks, Shan." Boone says thoughtfully, nodding to himself as he begins to walk away.

Shannon sighs, Boone already follows Jack around like the Cocker Spaniel she had when she was ten. The one that chased after a car and ended up getting hit by the one behind it. If he was going to up his Jack-time, then personal space was going to become a distant memory for Jack. Something he dreamed about at night.

Well, that is, something he could dream about when Boone wasn't staring down at him, breathing into his face. Oh please don't let Boone do that, she prayed.

x

7. The first time Boone ever kissed a boy was when he was sixteen. It probably would have happened sooner, but he hadn't even realized it was an option with certain guys. Unlike Shannon, he hadn't realized the effect his eyes and lips had on people. He hadn't realized that there were other people that looked at him besides the pretty girls who stood around holding their drinks poised delicately in one hand while they eyed him appreciatively.

The boy's name was Rick, Boone remembers. He tasted a little like the vodka he'd been drinking, but he hadn't been drunk. At least, not drunk enough that it could have been a good excuse or explanation if Boone had pulled away disgustedly.

They ended up groping outside by the pool house, hidden from view.

That's when Boone realized he didn't mind having guy's tongues in his mouth, or their hands up his shirt. He figured he probably wouldn't mind their hands down his pants either, but he thought he might as well save something for college. That was the time for experimenting, wasn't it?

x

8. It's a little disconcerting when Sawyer sneaks up behind Boone while he's next to the waterfall, just chilaxin, trying to come up with a plan—because what does Shannon really know? Boone is amazing with plans. He ran a business after all—and asks him nonchalantly if he's 'doing the doc yet.' The reason why it's disconcerting being it wasn't so long ago that Sawyer pounded the crap out of him. His muscles twitch a little when they remember.

After Shannon had gotten over her anxiety-induced asthma attack, she had mocked him mercilessly, "You never really were alpha male material were you?" She'd sneered. "It's not so fun to discover you can't buy everyone off here. And we all know you couldn't fight for shit."

"It's not so fun to find out you can't buy everyone with sex either." He'd shot back, and she'd scowled at him.

So, yeah, seeing Sawyer isn't exactly making him do cartwheels inside, but it's not even his presence, which is making Boone's muscles go all twitchy and spazzy and nervous-like on him, that's getting to Boone right now. It's more the words that are coming out of Sawyer's mouth—which, yeah, he knows he's supposed to learn to ignore because they all know Sawyer's an asshole, but not a _complete_ asshole, at least not _all_ the time—that's causing Boone's stomach to start shimmying around inside of him.

He settles for a biting, hopefully non-revealing, "What do you want?"

Sawyer gives him one of his most charming smiles, one of his smiles where you know he's about to torture you while looking pretty with his dimples showing and his eyes bright. "Nothing really, metro. Just wanted to know if you and the doc were getting busy yet, or if you were still available for a test drive."

Seriously, Boone knows the last part is just to try to piss him off more, or at least make him blush and sputter, so while it doesn't really piss him off, it does make him sputter a little, "I'm not _doing_ Jack." He says.

"But you'd like to be," Sawyer presses, taunting smile still on his face.

"No. Maybe. Why are you asking me this? Is there something you fucking want?" Ooh, nice, Boone. Maybe the usage of the f-word will scare him away. Not.

"My oh my, this is panning out to be _quite_ a nice day." Sawyer laughs, "You'd like to be doing the doc, but you aren't. So I'm thinking maybe you and I should take a swim. You certainly are the prettiest boy on the island."

"You think I'd want to anything with you? You beat the shit out of me a few weeks ago, and you think I'd want to have anything to even do with you?" Boone shoots him what he hopes is his best disgusted look _ever_

"Calm down, metro, I was only messing with you. I don't want to take any more of the doc's fans if you catch my drift." Sawyer cocks an eyebrow and smirks at Boone.

Sawyer walks away and if Boone did in fact 'catch Sawyer's drift' then Sawyer was hoping that if Jack's attention was focused on Boone it wouldn't be focused on…oh, hell. When Jack finds out that Kate's doing Sawyer he's going to go fucking _apeshit._

x

9. When Jack finds out he doesn't go apeshit as much as frown deeply and brood for a while.

He's sitting on the beach, eyes squinting out at the water when Boone finally approaches him. He feels sort of manly and brave doing it since everyone else has been tiptoeing around Jack, even Rash-Guy who usually runs to Jack all the time to ask him about this red mark on his arm and that bluish-pupley thing—bruise, dude, it's a bruise, as Hurley would say exasperatedly—on his leg.

"I guess you heard then?" He says, trying out the classic conversation starter since obviously he knows that Jack's heard. The whole island knows that Jack's heard. The crazy French woman probably somehow knows. Maybe a polar bear told her.

"About Kate and Sawyer?"

"No," Boone says, taking a seat by him. He folds his knees up and rests his arms on them, in likeness of Jack's position. "About the rescue plane. Flew overheard this morning."

"Ha ha."

"But seriously, I'm sorry, I know you liked Kate. I mean, I really don't get why you two didn't end up together, you could have had her easily."

"It's not really that." Jack frowns, finally glancing over at Boone. "I don't know what it is, actually."

"Oh. Well hey, there's plenty more fish in the sea." Boone grins and points out at the ocean. "I'm sure Jin can vouch for that." Boone is in fact feeling so manly/brave that he knocks his shoulder against Jack's affectionately, and then inwardly gasps at his own audacity.

To Boone's utter and complete disbelief—and joy. Joy!—Jack looks over at him and grins. "You had to get corny on me, didn't you?"

"Hey, to tell you the truth I thought you'd respond to that. I mean, Jesus, Jack, you tell the corniest stories sometimes."

"I do not." Jack protests, laughing.

"Uhhh, yeah, you do. Ask anyone. Kate told me about your little 'let yourself be scared for five seconds only' thing."

"Kate told you about that?"

"Well, not exactly. More like she told Claire when Claire was scared about having the baby, and Claire told Shannon when she got that cut on her arm and it looked worse than it was, and then Shannon told me when—"

"When what?"

"When I told her how scared I was when I thought that the Whatever-the-hell-it-is in the jungle was right behind me?" That wasn't supposed to sound like a question, that indicates exactly what Boone was trying his best _not_ to indicate. That Shannon had really told him that story to torture Boone and make him uncomfortable because whenever anyone talks about Jack he gets all excited and weird and like eager or something as equally pathetic and embarrassing.

"Boone?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" Jack's peering at him as though there's something funky growing out of Boone's head.

"I think so. Is there something that should be wrong with me?" That came out wrong.

"No, you just have a funny look on your face. Like you want to say something."

"Hm."

"Boone?"

"Yeah?"

"Is there something you want to say?"

Boone thinks for a minute. Actually, that's a lie. If he had in actuality taken the time to think, he probably wouldn't have blurted out, "Sawyer came on to me today."

"Sawyer what?" Jack asks slowly.

"He asked me if," Boone's brain is working enough to know that he can not NOT say the part where Sawyer asked if he was doing the doc. Jack. "I was single, and if so, could he take me for a test drive."

Jack looks incredibly pissy and broody all at once, which is really quite sexy in everyone on the islands honest opinion. "I thought he was with Kate now? If he's with Kate he can't have both of you. He hit on you?"

"He was probably just joking, wait, is it really that crazy that he'd be hitting on me?" So he's a little offended, sue him. His eyes are pretty, aren't they?

"No!" Jack says hurriedly, "Just he shouldn't be hitting on you if he's with Kate."

"Oh almighty _Christ_ will you two just fucking kiss already so we can get this over with?" Sawyer snaps from behind them.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Boone cries, face turning a little red.

"I was here," Sawyer says slowly, looking irritated, "minding my own goddamned business, taking a relaxing walk down the beach. Now is that a crime? I don't think so. So I'm strolling down the beach when what do I happen upon? The doc and pretty boy mooning over each other, but not doing a thing about it. Look, doc, I left you one, would you just fucking get in there already?" Sawyer walks away, muttering an exasperated 'god' under his breath.

"Well scarily enough that's probably the nicest thing he's ever said to me." Jack mutters, watching Sawyer's retreating form.

"Only Sawyer could possibly insult you and be nice at the same time like that." Boone frowns, rubbing absently at his arm, remembering Sawyer's fist connecting with it and the ensuing pain.

Suddenly Jack turns to face him as though he just remembered what was going on. "Have you been mooning over me?"

"I think you should define mooning. It could go either way."

Jack puts his hand on the back of Boone's neck and he looks at him for a few seconds, and then, wow, he's kissing Boone and all Boone can think about is whether or not he should give Sawyer a hug or a fruit basket or something later.

x

10. Boone sees Charlie writing Fate on his fingers again. It's the pen that catches his eye at first. Boone remembers getting that pen from one of the guys—maybe Scott?—after the plane had crashed and Scott was looking for Steve—or the other way around—and all Boone had wanted to do was help the guy who seemed like he knew what to do.

He watches as Charlie finishes writing the E, and he wonders if maybe this was fate. He'd always loved the beach the way Shannon loved stars; he'd lived in L.A practically his whole life, and the beach is just part of life there. At least for him. He always promised himself he'd get a house by the ocean.

And Shannon, Shannon still looks up at the sky like it'll never ever get old to her. She looks a little innocent like that, which is so not Shannon that Boone can almost believe she's another person, that they are living completely different lives, and he guesses really they are.

Maybe this was fate. Maybe loving the stars and the beach was all connected to this somehow, because now Boone has his own beach, where he can sleep sometimes by himself or even with Jack when he can convince him to leave the caves for a little while. He sleeps better by the ocean, but he doesn't mind the caves.

He goes to sit by Shannon when Sayid goes off for a bit, and she smiles at him for once, without saying a word, and he thinks that maybe she understands right now.

They look up at the stars together and Boone wishes he could buy Shannon a pair of star earrings that would sparkle when the sun rose in the morning.

End


End file.
